


Part of You

by 4salchow4always



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: 2019 European Figure Skating Championships, Everything continues to..., Feelings Realization, M/M, farewell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 01:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17519681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4salchow4always/pseuds/4salchow4always
Summary: He arrived in Minsk. There were some answers and some questions.





	Part of You

**Author's Note:**

> RPF declaimer: All descriptions are FICTIONAL and are only a fragment of imagination from an overwhelmed long-suffering stan of those two. Nothing more. May skating gods keep them safe, happy and healthy T_T
> 
> Thank you estelisa for giving this a quick look and helpful feedback. Any mistakes are mine.

“Why are you asking me to sign for you now?”

“I can’t? Javi, please don’t refuse. Please.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll do it. I skated for you at shitty o’clock and this,” Javi made a face in the hope of making Yuzu smile. He almost succeeded, yet Yuzu immediately suppressed that small twitch at the corner of his mouth behind a kind of demanding energy, as if he was in a competition.

“Yuzu, signing takes no energy. But you complained about my signature before.”

“But it’s Javi’s.” A sign pen was a bit forcefully shoved in Javi's right hand. A small flat object was handed out to him, with a tremor.

Javi had seen this device constantly around Yuzu. Strangely, despite their time on the same ice for 6 years, this was the first time he was offered to take it. He flipped the familiar iPod Touch to the back. Gold ink looked neat on the metallic surface, right under the engraving he was shown and explained once. His hand moved in accordance to muscle memory to create a pattern which would become his signature. This was familiar and yet not so. It reminded him of how their blades leaving patterns on ice. Apparently, Javier Fernaández López got too sentimental these days.

“Just want to keep part of you close. When skating.”

It was a quick whisper Javi nearly missed, but it punched him in his chest no less. He was glad he tensed with a bit of delay. It didn’t mess up his “too simple”, according to the same person in front of him, signature.

Handing back the iPod Touch, he was greeted with a more audible “thank you so much”. He looked at Yuzu’s animated features, noting the soft smile he liked the most, and a pair of reddened eyes too bright. It was all too much. And yet, he felt the tension inside him uncoil. Something could still stir in his heart, after all other overwhelming farewell exchanges he had earlier.

“Not that you don’t know already, but you know, I will always support you, okay?”

“I know.” Yuzu gingerly held his iPod touch, nodding, but mostly at his Mizuno sneakers. Following Yuzu’s line of sight, Javi marked the messily-tied shoelaces, which screamed nothing but _Someone was rushing off ice_. The fondness, that special type he allocated only to Yuzu, came back in full force.

As if on cue, they wordlessly put away their things on a table next to them, Javi the sign pen and Yuzu the signed iPod Touch.

Maybe it was Javi initiating again, or Yuzu, or both. They found themselves wrapped in one another’s arms, breaths tickling in one another’s nape. It was just them. Another familiar hug between them, natural and sure like many many times before.

 _And_ _after_ , Javi would hope, and hope Yuzu would hope that too. He could feel it in the comfort such hug, and how it always grounded them both. It was another something that no one needed to comment out loud. Another memory.

“Thank you for still keeping me around.” A joke with enough warmth for both.

“I continue to owe you my win.” A promise too.

  


*******

  


The flights from Toronto to Minsk should feel ordinary. Everything after he left TCC was smooth. Javi could use some well-deserved rest after priority boarding, if he didn’t realize how the contents inside his cabin bag was messed up by an uncapped sign pen. Now, having cleaned up as much as he could, he simply couldn't shake off the image of his signature resting under the engraving _AAA_ on the back of someone’s iPod Touch.

This someone is truly _someone_.

Right out of their hug, Yuzu threw at him one last smile that could defeat the sun and a declaration in a voice with so much emotions, those watery eyes with fire piercing into Javi’s mind.

“Javi will win his 7th Euros gold. I say it.”

“And it’ll be true?”

“Always.”

The fact was, there had been countless times known to Javi, and he suspected more times unknown to him, when Yuzu self-motivated like this. It generally involved announcing the goal with so much solemnity in public. Javi did not buy such approach. For him, it meant unnecessary extra pressure. He knew himself well enough by then that he functioned in a different way.

But it worked well with Yuzu. It had been another puzzling thing to Javi since they started to train together.

Until one afternoon in the summer before Sochi Olympics, Yuzu forced him to sit through two Japanese period drama films, all in the name of showing the music to be used in a dream free skate next Olympic cycle. As the plot of spells and demons unfolded, Javi was kept reminded how the Japanese believed words to have power per se. He started to wonder if there was something more to that habit of big words from his young rinkmate. The rest of plot gradually dissolved into background noises to his pondering. Next to him, there sat this over-enthusiastic figure with a mysterious mind and, surprisingly, Effie dozing on his restless lap.

His curiosity was too unbearable by the ending credit of the second film. Yuzu must have noticed- he whined a bit on how he regretted watching a football match last month with much more attention. Instead of bantering back by default, Javi bursted out his suspicion. It earned him two punches in the stomach and more on his arms when Yuzu thought he was teasing. After all the squeals from counter-tickling to the sound of Japanese flutes and drums, he did receive a brief recap on the working mechanism of _kotodama_.

Seeing how earnest Yuzu was with his beliefs of “speaking out to make real”, eyes blazing with sheer determination, Javi could only promise to try if needed, amid a breathlessness that rivalled a runthrough of his new FS. He covered it with some praises on the graceful dancing of the protagonist for a good measure.

It was easier times for them then, Javi would admit. As time went by, with their own battles, nightmare and dreams to face, it was not surprising how sometimes they were in sync and sometimes they drifted. They shared ups and downs. They were not quite together in their quests but Yuzu remained a constant all along. Everything between them had always been something Javi treasured so much. He kept all the memories away, let them sit and age in a designated corner of his mind. It was amusing that this approach reminded him how Sherry wines were matured in casks back in his home country. He didn’t really revisit the memories though. Yuzu was someone special. Someone who didn’t bring him fear even though his looks could be intensely scary in a comp. Javi just didn’t disturb memories. He was the man of present, man of the moment.

In the dim cabin light though, gold ink stains on his dark green sleeve kept tempting him, like a thread in a haze, always pulling him back to their last exchange just hours ago. It did speak volume when Yuzu would let his presence be kept that way, into a future Javi thought he had no place in. It was surprising but not that out of place, considering all the dramatic gestures he received, written or on ice, especially after Pyeongchang. But it got a bit much more than he could possibly explain. He wondered if he missed something all along.

It must be something from the past. He had no peace to settle into a quieter mindset between the in-flight meals and naps. The casks of memories, here and there, rattled in his mind.

The _entorno_. The unchanging yet evolving character of his training partner when it came to facing goals and fulfilling it. Various times they stood next to one another on podiums. The aftermaths of draining competitions. Bad days on ice. All the reunions after breaks. Ice shows shenanigans. Infrequent but special Line texting with emojis.

And, recent last days at TCC as a competitive skater. The times when they were on ice or off ice alone. More recent memories he kept away.

There came a kind of freedom to allow him to simply admire such a person without his own mentality at stake, as they were not competing against one another. He had been too occupied by wondering and giving up wondering at the slender figure in UA who kept trying to kill himself with such intensity in training, or at the mysterious workings inside the computer-like brain belonged to a sensitive soul. If he truly let his heart replay all the moments, it was clear how some other intangible things had escaped him. He could not put a label on those, but they were there, too entwined in their shared timelines. They mocked him more now, as he reconsidered how uniquely important he was in fact regarded in another's eyes, confirmed in one last gesture, in their last encounter.

It was all too much to take. He had to reexamine more in his memories to get a better sense. His transfer to another flight went in a haze.

  


*******  
  


Javi was still not done with all the recollection and understanding when someone irrelevant shoved mics in front of him outside the arrival gate.

He arrived in Minsk. There were some answers and some questions.

And some other asked by journalists on his last competition.

“Well, I’m ready,” he adjusted his overworked mind to interview mode and went with a smile. “I’m excited to be here.”

Afterwards, as requested, he talked briefly of his programs and expressed that he wished for a gold. Something from that corner of his mind made him add, “I’m sure I will win it.”

Javi wasn’t a fool- he realized fans would point out the unusual slip of tongue he had. He didn’t want to analyze too much, yet. He was truly in Minsk and had to start focusing to claim his 7th consecutive Euros gold. Before leaving the airport, he counted his bags, making sure he had everything with him, most importantly his skates. A sign pen poked out one of the pockets of his cabin big, capped and clean. Packing it away in a safer place, he laughed slightly at his own big words just now. With that special fondness, he allowed himself one more thought as motivation.

_Maybe part of you is with me here as well._

**Author's Note:**

> Javi arrived in Minsk on 21st and this is the interview:  
> https://youtu.be/cRzqhRwCEVg
> 
> This fic is laden with lots of references and currently I'm too emotionally exhausted to write any footnotes. Feel free to ask in comments if you have any questions! I nearly quitted writing and posting for good so please let me know if this fic isn't that shitty m(~.~)m
> 
> Ps. Ganbatte Javi! Vamos!


End file.
